


Indirectly

by aviatrix8



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M, nerd love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aviatrix8/pseuds/aviatrix8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iori can’t seem to find his gas mask… But why would anyone want to take it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indirectly

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first Inumuta/Iori fic I ever wrote (yes, the one that started it all ;). Figured I should post it here, as well...

Iori just couldn’t seem find his gas mask.

He had already searched the entirety of the Sewing Club’s research area, and enquired all the club members to its whereabouts, without any results… It was beginning to get on his nerves.

He knew that he shouldn’t let such a trivial thing bother him, considering how important his Life Fiber research was, but Iori just couldn’t concentrate on his work without it. Using any other gas mask wouldn’t quite feel right… It was a part of his uniform, a part of his identity, and he felt half-dressed without it.

Besides, the very idea of anyone else using his mask was… Unpleasant. And unsanitary. It made Iori shudder to think of it.

But… Now that he thought about it, the last time Iori remembered wearing his gas mask was when he had lunch with the Student Council. And of course, he had to remove his mask in order to eat…

This thought had just occurred to him, when Iori noticed a familiar figure leaning by the entrance of the Sewing Club. Breathing a sigh of relief, Iori hurried over.

“Inumuta.”

“Iori.” Inumuta gave him a short nod of acknowledgement. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually, there is,” replied Iori, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “Have you seen my gas mask anywhere? I haven’t seen it since we had lunch together.”

There was the slightest of pauses. And then…

“No, I have not,” replied Inumuta.

Iori deflated somewhat. “Oh. Thanks anyways.”

Inumuta pushed up the bridge of his glasses. “Certainly. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have some Student Council business to attend to.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” replied Iori, clearly distracted.

Inumuta nodded again, and then left the room.

Iori turned to walk away himself, when he suddenly paused. His brow furrowed.

There was something odd about Inumuta, just now… His uniform collar was pulled up, covering half of his face, as always, but there was a slight change about him… Iori just couldn’t place a finger on it.

Iori then shrugged. He was probably just imagining things. Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that he was overlooking something…

***

Inumuta walked down the corridor, with purposeful steps. Clearly, he had a specific destination in mind.

He rounded the corner, stopping by a unmarked door. Inumuta then reached into his pocket, and produced a key. Unlocking the door, he slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind him.

Inside the room, was the Student Council’s private bathroom. Of course, it was far more upscale than most of the other washrooms in Honnouji Academy, though Lady Satsuki would never use this room herself (she had her own personal bathroom, naturally).

So this place was a safe haven for all members of the Student Council; the locked door was even unmarked so that unworthy students would not be tempted to break in and deface it.

As the door locked shut behind him, Inumuta breathed a sigh of relief. Walking over to the row of gleaming sinks, he paused in front of one, and placed his hands on the polished countertop. Then, he stared intently at the long mirror hanging over it.

As his eyes met that of his reflection’s, Inumuta’s collar opened by its own accord… Revealing that he was wearing Iori’s gas mask underneath.

Inumuta averted his gaze from the mirror, and pulled off the mask. He stared into it silently for moment, then put it back on… And breathed in deeply.

“Inumuta.”

Inumuta looked up, startled. In the reflection of the mirror, he could see Iori standing by the entrance, glaring at him. His collar instantly snapped shut.

_Idiot_ , Inumuta silently berated himself. _Of course Iori has a key to this place, he’s part of Lady Satsuki’s inner circle…_

He turned to face Iori. “Is there something I can help you with, Sewing Club President?”

“Cut the formalities, Inumuta,” snapped Iori. “I have my glasses on, so I’m not blind.”

Before Inumuta could react, Iori marched up to him and unzipped his collar, revealing the stolen mask.

“So you do have my gas mask,” said Iori accusingly.

Inumuta sighed, and took off the mask. “I suppose I can’t hide it any longer. How did you find out?”

Iori tugged at Inumuta’s open lapel.

“Your uniform collar. It opens up whenever you speak, because of the Life Fibers in it, right? Well, it didn’t open at all when you were in the Sewing Club room just now. Also, your collar was pulled up a centimeter higher than usual, and your voice was far more muffled that it should’ve been with just your collar up. There’s more, but I hardly need to elaborate, do I?”

Inumuta looked taken aback by Iori’s assessment. Then, he smiled slowly.

“I shouldn’t have underestimated you, Mr. Sewing Club President.”

“Again with the formalities…” muttered Iori. His expression then softened. “Why did you lie about taking my mask, Inumuta? I thought we were friends, and above such childish antics.”

Inumuta avoided his gaze. “I was… Looking for data.”

“What sort of data?” asked Iori suspiciously.

“Data on… Why you wear the gas mask.”

“What, seriously? Life Fibers are far too dangerous to work with, without some form of protective gear… You know that as well as I do, Mr. Information Head.” Iori shook his head. “Don’t play the fool, Inumuta, it doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s because of you that I am playing the fool,” muttered Inumuta.

Iori raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Inumuta’s eyes widened, and his collar snapped shut. “Nothing.”

“I’m not deaf either, you know. Why is it my fault that you’re acting like the fool?”

“I’d… rather not say.”

Iori rolled his eyes. “Okay. Fine, whatever. Surely you’re done examining my mask by now, Inumuta. Please return it; I need it for my work.”

Iori reached out to take the mask, but Inumuta made no move to hand it over.

Iori frowned. “What is the matter with you, Inumuta? If you’re not going to tell me why you took my mask, then at least give it back!”

Inumuta lowered his eyes. “Oh… Very well. I suppose I have no choice but to tell you.” He cleared his throat.

“I wanted your mask for an–” Inumuta’s collar snapped shut, muffling the rest of the sentence.

Iori’s brow furrowed. “What was that?”

“I said, an in–” The collar shut and opened quickly this time, “–ss.”

Iori buried his face in a hand. “Look Inumuta… I can’t understand you, if your uniform keeps cutting you off.”

Sighing, Inumuta held open his collar, then quietly said:

“I wanted your mask for an indirect kiss.”

It took a few moments for those words to sink in. Then:

“An indirect… Kiss?” Iori’s eyes then widened. “Wait. You mean, an indirect kiss… With me?”

Inumuta’s collar opened briefly. “Yes.”

“Uh…” Iori felt his face turning red, and wished that he had his mask to cover his embarassment. How could he even begin to reply to something like that? A love confession… And from Inumuta, of all people?

Inumuta sighed again. “I was hoping you’d wouldn’t find out this way, Iori. I had run countless simulations where I attempted to confess my feelings to you, but I couldn’t go through with any of them… Though I must admit, I never foresaw this particular scenario. Perhaps I should’ve expanded the parameters more…”

Iori’s mind was swimming, as Inumuta’s technobabble sailed past his head. If Inumuta had run countless simulations on confessing to him, then how long had he had these feelings? Iori was almost afraid to ask.

“So, I decided to… borrow your gas mask in order to relieve my unrequited feelings for you, Iori,” concluded Inumuta, matter-of-factly. “Perhaps not the wisest course of action, but love makes fools of us all, which does seem true in this instance. I suppose it is my own fault, for assuming that you use more than one gas mask.”

“Um yes, I am rather fond of that particular mask…” said Iori dazedly.

“I’ll have to file that away for future reference,” mused Inumuta.

“Still… I don’t understand, Inumuta. Why me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Iori shook his head.

“You proved it just a moment ago, Iori. I had entered the Sewing Club Room for just a moment, yet you still figured out that it was I who had taken your mask. You saw right through my ploy so quickly. Who else in Honnouji Academy could’ve figured that out with such clear and concise logic? Only you Iori… And of course, Lady Satsuki.”

Suddenly, Inumuta lifted Iori’s chin with his hand. Iori found himself staring into Inumuta’s green gaze, glinting through the blue-tinted lenses.

“And yet… Lady Satsuki isn’t the one I’m interested in,” said Inumuta softly.

At that moment, Iori wished that he had more than just a mask, to conceal the flush that he knew was spreading across his body.

“At any rate… Here.” Inumuta handed the gas mask to Iori, who accepted it, with a surprised look.

“I apologize for any inconvenience that this whole fiasco might have cost you, Iori. And if you choose to ignore the events that have just occurred, I completely understand. I only hope you can forgive me for my lapse in judgement in this matter, and that we may continue on as friends.”

As Inumuta spoke, Iori put his mask back on rather dazedly. Even though he knew Inumuta had been wearing it, it didn’t seem as off-putting as he thought it would be…

Iori found himself breathing deeply into the mask, and wondered why he suddenly felt so embarassed. Then a thought occurred to him: _It’s because this mask has touched Inumuta’s lips, isn’t it? Oh dear…_

Just then, Iori noticed that Inumuta was about to leave the room. Iori found himself stepping forward to stop him.

“Um, wait a minute…”

Inumuta paused, with his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

The two boys then faced each other, trying to avoid the other’s gazes. Then, Iori removed his mask.

“Here.” Iori reached up to place the mask on Inumuta. Iori could clearly see the look of astonishment on the other boy’s face, as Inumuta’s collar opened up eagerly.

Inumuta raised a hand, to the mask now covering his mouth. “But..”

“Don’t worry, you can keep it,” said Iori, with a smile. “I can always get another mask. However…” Iori held up a hand, before Inumuta could interrupt. “Before you can claim it for your own, I need you to answer a question for me.”

Inumuta raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? What’s the question, then?”

Iori reached up to touch the mask on Inumuta’s face. He then grazed his fingers across it, just where Inumuta’s lips should be.

“Now that I know how you how you feel about me… Would you only settle for an indirect kiss?” murmured Iori.

For once, Inumuta was at a loss for words. Countless scenarios suddenly played out in his mind, but they all seemed to narrow down to a single, logical conclusion.

Unconsciously, Inumuta found himself reaching for the door behind him. He groped around blindly until his fingers met with something metallic… Feeling the latch, he bolted it firmly, effectively barring the door from any outside interference.

A slow smile spread across Inumuta’s face, as he met Iori’s gaze.

“Well, now. Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

Then there was a faint clatter as the gas mask fell to the floor, forgotten.


End file.
